


Mystic Rivers

by orphan_account



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Artist!Ian, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-16 12:23:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4625241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I’ve been staring at him for a whole fucking hour, the prick with stupid fucking black hair swept back, which looks like he made a cursory attempt at styling his hair and gave up halfway through.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This will be an ongoing thing, like Christina Aguilera's singing career. Also I don't know why I made that reference, it's just that this is my first piece of fanfiction. All you need to know is that this will be a work in progress and that I can't put words in a cohesive sentence.  
> The rest of the chapters will be much longer, I just wanted to do what they do at Costco where they give you those lil samples and I only go to Costco for those lil samples.  
>  The title used to be "Pencil Earing", but that title was the lamest phrase I've ever made up, and also I spelt earring wrong.

I’ve been staring at him for a whole fucking hour, the prick with stupid fucking black hair swept back, which looks like he made a cursory attempt at styling his hair and gave up halfway through. He is wearing these fucking jeans that do nothing to hide his fucking ass, which is fucking round and plump and stupid because no person should be allowed in public like that. No person should be able to distract me this fucking much. 

The worst part is that my little obsession with this motherfucker does not merely reside in the dark corners of my fucked up psyche. It’s now on paper. Instead of the hulking mass of muscle, frizzy blond hair, and a blank expression hunched over on the stool in the middle of the room, I drew the prick cleaning the fucking art studio.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look guys, I'm terrible at all of this and this update is short and sucky and I'm sorry. All I know is that this story will be finished someday, and on that day it will have smut and plenty of Ian-Mickey interaction and lots of like nude drawings and all that stuff.

The first thing I drew was my father’s unconscious body. It was hardly a masterpiece, and you could barely see it from the grease stains on the napkin, but it was something. I had done something, made something that wasn’t there before. And after years of angry red marks on all my tests, years of muscle being my only mark of achievement, years of drugs and strobe lights and faceless men, I found refuge in grease stained napkins. 

I got better over time. I drew my siblings, drew Lip’s smug smirk, his loose limbs, Fiona’s wide smile and flawed elegance, Debbie’s scrunched up look of determination, Carl’s maniacal laugh, Liam’s smile. I drew on napkins and crumpled up receipts and on the back of the menu at the diner I work at. When Fiona realized I had potential, or, more likely, got tired of hearing the scratch of pencil on paper, she signed me up for classes at the community college. 

I finally found something I could do, at least semi-decently. And all this concentration and skill I had built up over months of constant practice and unshakeable focus went down the drain once he walked into the room. The douche bag who thought it’d be a good idea to prance around the art studio, bending down as if he didn’t know his ass was a fucking safety hazard. Like he didn’t know his back dimples, shown every time he reached to dust the shelves (as if they needed dusting, created a nagging thirst in all who saw them. Like he didn’t know sculpted biceps were the work of Greek Gods. 

“Pencils down! Pencils down! We must give the paper time to rest, art must breathe through us, children. It must not be down all in one sitting. It’s a flowing river, find it in your inner soul and let it come out slowly!” Ms. Pomfrey was a character, but I liked her. She was one of the few people I’d met that truly valued art, and recognized that I was actually useful for something other than fucking up my life. 

But all the fondness and admiration I had for her disappeared once she started flirting with the douche-bag with the great ass. She touched his bicep and actually twirled her hair. TWIRLED HER HAIR. As if we were in middle school, as if I hadn’t wasted months in murky night clubs mastering the art of seduction to be prepared for this moment, as if this were a game. Impulse had gotten me nowhere in life, but in a fit of misplaced jealousy, I got off my stool and marched towards the future love of my life, pencil in hand. 

“-but you must come over sometime. I feng shuied my entire house, and you can really absorb nature’s energies when in a peaceful environment. I mean, you look so tense. Think about your inner river, how would you -”

“Lady, I think my inner river is fucking peachy.” 

His voice was even better than I’d imagined, raspy and rough and fucking amazing. 

“Oh, Mickey. You are too much! You must come over, I - Ian! Have you met Mickey? He’s my lovely assistant.”

I plastered on a smile and stuck out my hand, struggling to keep clam at the way her voice scraped against my ears and her hand rested on his forearm. He didn’t take it, rather smirked at me as if he had heard all the dirty thoughts I’d had about him. 

“Shaking earth moles! Ten minutes have already passed, the art juices are getting stale! Class, please return to your stools! The river must flow again!”

I wanted Ms. Pomfrey to fall into this fucking river she always talked about. I dragged myself back to my stool and continued to draw the blondie in front of me. Or at least I tried to, because every time I seemed to be getting anywhere I’d see Mickey and my concentration would be shot to hell. 

Fuck mystic flowing rivers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All criticisms welcome!! I really want to improve. Also, if you guys have any ideas of how you want this story to go, please tell me. I honestly don't know what will happen.   
>  Maybe Ms. Pomfrey is actually a dragon with five heads? Maybe the blond guy posing is Bruce Willis? Maybe I'm Ms. Pomfrey? Maybe the blond guy is Michael Cera?

**Author's Note:**

> Also give me ideas if you want, if you don't want to it's fine.


End file.
